


Seven Stories for Horizon

by bagog



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Some Humor, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:31:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagog/pseuds/bagog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthology of seven interconnected shorts which inform Kaidan's mindset concerning Horizon, years before and years after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on my tumblr for Kaidan Appreciation Week. Since I made all the prompts linked with Horizon as the connecting theme, I thought I'd post it here as a single work. It's a bit of an experiment in non-linear story arcs. If you read it on tumble, you've read it here. Just smoothed some of the language and fixed one or two errors. Hope you like it!

Alliance GARDIAN turrets were _not_ made to be repaired by a single person.

New rank, new armor, new assignment. Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko had made the mistake of being just a _little_ proud of himself. He was even getting the chance to investigate the rumors of Commander Shepard’s reappearance. But his cover? Heavy turret construction.

Moreover, Kaidan hadn’t felt so ostracized since his first weeks at brain camp.

It was a small colony, sure. This district in particular. “Smaller than Eden Prime!” Lilith had reminded him time and time again, with that little smirk on her face, waving back while Kaidan sat up to his elbows in tech-packing foam. “I’m afraid no one is free to help, today!”

No one had been free to help for _four weeks_. Kaidan knew the people in this colony weren’t exactly trusting of the Alliance, but he was starting to take it personally.

Like always, as the sun went down, Kaidan made his way over to the work crew mess for chow. He’d spent the entire afternoon calibrating one of the canon’s range finder—something he should’ve gotten good at 5 turrets ago, but still hadn’t.

“Evening, Alenko,” Chef said, sliding Kaidan a plate of Salisbury steak over the hot-bar sneeze-guard. “You’re lookin’ worn out today.”

“Yeah, finally got the whole east side armament calibrated, assuming I can get any power.” He grimaced at the meager portion of mashed potatoes.

“What’d Lilith say when you asked for some help?”

“Same thing as always,” Kaidan affected a stern, but gracious falsetto, “ _Other things have priority, Kaidan. We’re a small colony and have a lot to think about this time of year._ ”

Chef guffawed so hard he dropped the ladle into the gravy, then he was laughing so hard he couldn’t see straight to fish it back out. Kaidan could only blink.

“That’s—“ Chef wheezed, “That’s hysterical! Dawson, hey Dawson! Get over here and listen to this shit! This guy’s got a spot-on Lilith impression! Go ahead, Alenko, do it! Do it!”

“Umm,” Kaidan turned to face the small crowd that hard formed at the hot bar. He tentatively attempted the falsetto again, “ _I’ve got a feeling no one will be able to help you tomorrow either, Commander. I just have this feeling._ ” He punctuated the impression with the little smirk he was so used to seeing Lilith employ.

There was a long silence.

Then the room erupted in laughter.

Before he knew it, Chef had loaded his tray with more mashed potatoes and Dawson had pulled him over to sit with his group. Kaidan hadn’t spoken with enough people in the colony to do adequate impressions of most of them.

“Who else can you do?” one of the younger workers asked.

“Umm, do you know the Earth Ambassador to the Citadel? Ambassador Udina? Seen him on the extranet?”

Most of the workers blinked, but Dawson chipped in.

“Yeah, yeah! Do it!”

“Okay, uhhh, let’s see,” Kaidan cleared his throat and fixed a menacing frown to his face. “ _You’ve really done it this time, Councilor, the asari will never approve of an elcor/human opera double act! The very thought is an affront to what I’ve been working to achieve!”_ Dawson was in stitches, and the sheer force of his laughter was making the rest of the table smirk and giggle as well. “ _No, please don’t punch me in the face again, Anderson! GAAGH!”_

Ten minutes later, the whole mess was crowded around Kaidan and an extranet terminal, looking up the various dignitaries, soldiers, and galactic figures Kaidan could do comical impressions of.

“ _Yeeeees,”_ Kaidan droned in his best Councilor Sparatus impression, “ _We’ve determined that your ‘Reeeeapers’ are nothing more than a children’s superstition. Ouuuuur intelligence indicates Saren and his geth attacked the Citadel with a detachment of tooth fairies!”_

“I’ve never heard this turian guy in my life,” Dawson panted with laughter, “But I bet that’s spot on! I just _bet!”_

Everyone huddled around the extranet terminal as it queued up a commencement speech by Councillor Sparatus. Not more than three syllables in, and the entire crowd was roaring with laughter.

Honestly, Kaidan was a little thunderstruck—he definitely had never been funny before—but he goaded the laughter on by repeating back the turian’s more colorfully diplomatic turns of phrase in an exaggerated style.

“Ooo,” someone called from the back, “You knew Commander Shepard, right? Do Commander Shepard!”

“Yeah!” someone else called, and people started clapping already.

“Uhh, nah, I don’t wanna—“

“Come on!” Dawson crowed.

“Do you guys even know what Shepard sounds… sounded like?” Kaidan scratched the back of his neck.

“Sure, saw his interview Emily Wong back in the day!”

“I saw his speech after the Citadel attack. Everyone saw that! Do it!”

Just in case, someone pulled up the speech on the terminal. Kaidan stared for a minute, looked between the image of Shepard in his dress-blues on the screen and the smiling faces waiting silently around the mess hall.

He cleared his throat.

It took him three tries to find his voice.

“ _Tell me more about that last thing you just said. Now the other thing. Now the other thing. No, stop. I don’t care anymore. I’m leaving.”_

No one could have understood the inside joke Ashley, Garrus and he used to share. But no one heard more than the first two words. The laughter was immediate and deafening. They looked up some interviews of Shepard and laughed all the more, talking about how “spot-on, just spot on!” Kaidan’s impression had been.

Kaidan had never been funny before, but it seemed like people wanted to laugh, and honestly—after the month he’d had with these damn turrets—so did he.

++

He had a seat at their table from then on, and got to talk a good bit about his history, his interests. The workers seem to hang on his words, and a few days later—hauling another crate of unassembled turret pieces out to the southwest retaining wall—people waved to him as he went by.

“Hey, Commander!” Some woman he’d never met gave him a thumb’s up, “ _I don’t usually go for Salisbury steak, but this is pretty great!”_ she said in an affected gravelly tone.

Kaidan blinked, but she and her companion were crowing with laughter and carried on. A little further on, there was a man with dark hair that was checking out his hair in the reflection of a window: it was coifed almost identically to Kaidan’s.

“Commander Alenko, hi there!” The man said, pocketing his comb when he spotted Kaidan, “How ya doin’? _Fully functioning human being_!”

It was the same affected, deep voie the passing woman had used. And the man practically sauntered off. Then Kaidan saw another man with his hairstyle.

Then another.

Then another.

Then a little girl with coifed hair and thick eyebrows drawn on her face with a piece of charcoal.

_“Kick ass! Gonna kick ass!”_

_“Uhhh... let’s have a beer? Wait, what?!”_

_“Send ‘em straight to hell!”_

_“My family_ makes _wine!”_

_“Bacon! BACON!”_

Kaidan managed quite a bit of genuine laughter each time, even the man with his hair cut who merely approached with pouty lips and made an awkward lip-smack, sharp intake of breath noise before laughing hysterically and walking away.

“Kaidan,” Lilith patted him on the back a few hours later as he struggled to find the next piece of casing to mount onto the canon. “Just came to see how you were doing.” She chuckled to herself, “ _Fully functioning human being_ , I bet?”

“Very funny,” he wiped some grease from his hands on a rag. “Guess you’re getting in on the impressions game, too?”

“You bet! Most I’ve seen these people laughing in a long time. Anyway, glad to see you’re doing alright.”

“Umm, actually,” he spoke up as she turned to leave. “It would sure be great to get a hand with these last two turrets.”

“Sorry, Kaidan,” she called over her shoulder, “We’re really busy recalibrating the comms right now!”

Kaidan slumped to the ground with a muffled curse.

He vowed not to go back to the mess tonight, he had plenty or Alliance rations in his quarters and the Salisbury steak wasn’t even _that_ good. But just as he was resolving to keep to himself, arm this colony, and get out there to look for Shepard, he noticed two boys playing up on a balcony of one of the nearby pre-fabs.

“I’ll protect you, Shepard!” shouted the one little boy with styled hair, holding up both hands and making a ‘woosh’ noise Kaidan figured was meant to represent biotics.

“Behind you, Alenko!” said the other, in a grizzled tone that sounded more like Kaidan’s impression of Shepard than the man himself.

With a great sigh, Kaidan dropped his rag and reached back into the crate to start assembling the targeting matrix.


	2. What's Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back, Kaidan a few weeks after being kicked out of BAaT.

> _Rahna,_
> 
> _I know you don’t want to read a letter from me but please just hear me out. Please, I need you to hear what I have to say about what happened. About what I did._
> 
> _That’s not me, Rahna. Honestly, I don’t know what came over me. I’m never ever going to be able to shake the guilt and shame I have from taking a life. It was a horrible thing I did, I know that._
> 
> _But I’m not a monster. I’ve never felt more like one than I did when Vyrnnus hurt you like that. But I’ve never been more angry either. You know I have a temper, and that’s no excuse for the awful thing I did, but I couldn’t control it and I can’t ever be forgiven for that. But I can do better, I can control myself, I can keep the anger inside me in check. Please believe that even if you think I might be a monster on the inside. I’m not a monster, I was just confused, and I know I can never live it down. I know that._
> 
> _The truth is, I miss you Rahna. I miss everyone, but I miss you so damn much. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. It might make me sick or something, but losing your trust hurts more than anything. I care about you, Rahna. I care about you so damn much._
> 
> _Please let me hear from you, even if it’s just to tell me what an evil person I am, just let me hear from you._
> 
> _Your Friend,  
>  Kaidan Alenko_

Kaidan let out the breath he’d been holding since he started typing the letter, frowned down at the glowing console. His finger hovered over the ‘Send’ button, but the squiggle underneath ‘more angry’ caught his attention. He really should read back through to make sure there weren’t any other grammatical errors. In fact, he should probably read through the whole letter again, just to make sure it was right. He only had one chance at this.

But no, it had to be straight from the heart, no editing, no anything. Rahna would know if it wasn’t straight from the heart. But that meant that if his one chance was going to work, he just had to be good enough to say all the right things without having to read back through it at all. So if the letter wasn’t good enough, _he_ wasn’t good enough.

His guts felt hollow, and that was no way to feel when sending a letter he was supposed to be confident about. He shut off his console without hitting send and groaned into his pillow.

++

The next day his father joined him on the balcony with a beer.

“You’re frowning even more than usual today, Kaidan,” There was still a wisp of steam snaking out of the bottle he handed to his son. “Come on, let’s hear it. What’s on your mind?”

“I started writing a letter last night to Rahna. About… about what I did.”

“Rahna. Okay. D’you finish?”

Kaidan shook his head.

“Well, yeah. I wrote it. But I didn’t send it.”

“How come.”

Kaidan shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“Why are you writing the letter?”

“Because she hates me!” Kaidan came up off his elbows and took a pull at his beer. “Dad, she fu—she hates me and I just need to know that… that… well I don’t want her to hate me!”

“Hmm,” his dad looked out at the bay. Usually, he’d be idly watching the frigates rising out of Alliance HQ. “Son, if that girl hates you—and I’m not saying she does—it might be… it might be something she needs to work through, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Kaidan huffed. “I know.”

He didn’t actually, but he deleted his message and started new:

> _Rahna,_
> 
> _I get that you won’t want to hear from me right now, but you need to hear my side of the story._
> 
> _I’m not a bad person, no matter what you think. I know I did a horrible thing, but I did it for a good reason. Vyrnnus was a maniac, you saw it, I saw it. Everyone saw it. People died, Rahna. Our friends died. And he was responsible. He killed them as much as if he had shoved them out an airlock._
> 
> _I was wound pretty tight—we all were—but the last straw was when he hurt you. I wasn’t trying to kill him, I won’t say I didn’t want to hurt him, because I did. But I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t mean to kill him. Can’t say the same for him though. I don’t even think you saw the knife he pulled on me, he broke your arm, and he was going to kill me._
> 
> _I just reacted the way he trained us to react. It was awful, and it wasn’t me. You’re too good of a person to be in that place._
> 
> _But deep down inside, I was doing it because I care about you more than anyone and you need to know that._
> 
> _Kaidan_

That felt better. _That_ felt like the letter he needed to send to Rahna: straight to the point, a good balance of defending himself and explaining what really went on.

But he couldn’t read it back. There was a strange twinge in his temple whenever he was about to read through it, like a migraine coming on. It was as if something inside him knew that he’d be looking back into a mirror of his worst qualities to read it back.

He should just click send. This was the letter he needed after all. The one he should send to Rahna.

He didn’t though, and for the second time, went to bed without sending his letter.

++

“So why do you need to send a letter?” His dad asked him the next evening. The sky was turning pink around the rainclouds that were finally thinning out as the day wore on.

“I just want… I just want someone to understand what happened.”

“’Someone?’” His dad held a bottle to his lips, gave him a sidelong glance.

“Rahna. I want her to understand.”

“How come?”

Kaidan’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“Whaddaya mean ‘why?’ She’s my friend! She… I thought she was maybe more than that. I care about her.”

His dad nodded.

“So because she’s important you want to…” He raised an eyebrow.

“I want to explain. I want to check in. I want… to apologize and… I just want things to be like they were.” He stared out at the bay. His beer was growing warm in his hand. “But they won’t.”

“No, they won’t,” Dad said softly. “There are sometimes where caring about someone means… leaving them alone. And there are sometimes where you realize that… as much as you care about someone… they had their place in your life. And it isn’t that they aren’t important anymore, but maybe they’re just not… important for who you’re gonna be, moving forward. So you don’t write to them, you cherish the time you had, but you realize that… they’re not important to you like that, anymore.”

“That sounds cold.”

“Does it?” he laughed. “Maybe. Only you can decide what to do, son.”

So in bed that evening, Kaidan started once again:

> _Rahna,_
> 
> _I’m sorry about what I did at Brain Camp. I’m sorry to you, and I’m sorry about it myself. My life has been pretty bad between this implant and the freak I was in school. I’ve had to fight everyone, my teachers and the other kids, my whole life just to try to keep it together. When I got to brain camp, I finally thought I was making something of myself. But there was Vyrnnus, and I knew everything would be the same._
> 
> _But then I met you, and things changed. I had friends, and I had you. We’re both still learning who we are, and brain camp sure as hell wasn’t making that easy. You are really important to me, and maybe I was important to you. I just don’t know anymore. A lot has changed, and I can’t ignore it any more than you can._
> 
> _Please be careful. Even without Vyrnnus, that place is dangerous. I’ve watched a lot of my friends die from that training. I hope you stay the person I remember, the good, kind person who held my hand after that beating when everyone else was rushing to get their water ration._
> 
> _Take care,_
> 
> _K_

He read the letter a few times. It was missing something, as much as it pained him to admit it. He added a post-script.

> _I’m not going to send you this letter, Rahna. We had some really good times. I still care about you. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I know this is over. Also, I get that maybe you aren’t as important to me as I thought you were. You’re always going to be a big part of who I am, you taught me a lot, but it’s time for me to move on._

_I’m going to meet someone someday who I can send this letter to, who I need back in my life, even when I don’t know how it will happen. It’s not you, and that hurts. But I know I’ll meet that person someday._


	3. What It Means to be an Alliance Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan's life takes a big turn, and sometimes the people you most need, who always supported you, need to be won back.

“Kaidan.”

“Dad.”

“We got your message.” Kaidan’s father was stone faced on the vid screen, jaw locked one step removed from an open scowl. “You’re enlisting.”

“I am.” Kaidan was trying very hard to not mirror his father’s expression, but it was hard. Even he could see that, once he had entered his twenties, he really did look like his father. For the older man, seeing his son for the first time in three years, the effect must have been even more disturbing.

“And you didn’t even think to come visit, before you’re off to basic.” It was a statement, Kaidan had been ready for it, and didn’t even wince.

“I wanted to—“

“If you wanted to come home, you would have made time to come home, Kaidan,” his father snapped. “You would have written. In three years you would have written or visited.”

“I wanted to—“

“Your mother is going to be heartbroken—“

“I’ll speak for myself, thank you,” Mom’s voice rang through the channel, and the screen split in two, Mrs. Alenko’s face appearing. She closed her omni-tool and scowled at the screen, though Kaidan was pretty certain she was scowling at his father. “I don’t need you to tell my son what will and won’t break my heart. And you damn well know it.”

“Honey, Kaidan and I just need a few minutes to ourselves to—“

“You’ve had a few minutes, and the two of you have spent it seething and staring at each. Come off it,” she scoffed. Her face softened almost immediately, and Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now. Kaidan, why can’t you come home?”

Kaidan took a deep breath, fully expecting his father to jump in again. But there was silence and expectant stares on the screen.

“I wanted to make something of myself before I came back,” he said, as resolutely as he could sound. His dad shook his head.

“You don’t have to _make_ something of yourself, for goodness’ sake, Kaidan,” he barked. “We’re your parents, we love you.”

Kaidan tried not to narrow his eyes at the way his father stabbed a finger at the screen.

“And I wanted to join the Alliance,” Kaidan swallowed and continued, keeping his tone level. “I’ve always wanted to, but after what happened… it wasn’t the right time.”

“But after you’ve been bumming around the galaxy doing god-knows-what for the last three years, _that’s_ the right time?” His father sneered.

“Why now, Kaidan,” his mother said more softly, though with a dangerous tone quavering just beneath the surface. “Why not wait until next year?”

“Because I’ve been waiting the past three years… doing whatever I could to scrape by. I’ve been waiting since I got… since I got this damn implant in my head,” He thocked the side of his head so hard, the sound stopped his father up mid eye-roll. “Trying to do something better with my life. And I don’t know who I am or what I need to do. But the one thing I want to do is help people.”

His father shook his head, spoke in an intensely dark tone.

“I know you need to find yourself, son. But I’ll be damned if any son of mine is going to be the weak link of the Alliance navy because he’s outta money and is looking for a free meal ticket.”

Kaidan physically pulled back from the screen. His mother closed her eyes.

“The…” she tried after a moment of heaving, angry breaths on either side of the channel. “The Alliance isn’t everything, Kaidan. If you want to join, _neither_ of us is going to stop you. But we’re your _family_ Kaidan.”

“The Alliance is _important_ , Kaidan!” His father burst in, seemingly unheeding of his wife’s words. “You think you can follow orders? You think you can do what you’re told? You couldn’t even follow directions back in school.”

“I’ll be a good soldier,” Kaidan said through grit teeth. “I’ll follow orders that are _good_ orders, like a real soldier should. Like _you_ taught me. I won’t tolerate unethical orders. I won’t tolerate inaction. _”_

“Sometimes things are for the greater good. Sometimes the brass doesn’t move on something because saving a couple lives—a hundred lives—will mean something far worse for thousands. Do you think _you_ can make those choices? Do you think you can accept the consequences of those decisions _without_ questioning them?” He was practically roaring over the channel, now.

“I don’t know,” Kaidan cried, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I have to. This is what I have to do.”

“This is the most important thing you’ve ever done with your life, Kaidan, don’t make a joke out of—“

“Dad, I know how you _feel_ about the Alliance, and I _want_ to join because of you!”

“Kaidan,” His mother said quietly. Both of the Alenko men sighed heavily and Mrs. Alenko continued. “Your father left the Alliance to start a family. The greater good is always important—and it’ll always be there. Family is important too. We’ll see you when we see you, sweetheart. Just don’t forget.”

“…you follow orders,” Dad’s jaw was clenched once again. “Unless something damn important comes up. You could never… you could never alienate us, son. No matter what you do, it won’t destroy us. Out there, with the Alliance, when the big decision are on the line, you _can_ fuck up. You can trust the wrong person. You can get people killed.”

“I know,” Kaidan was trying to calm his breathing. “I’ll make you proud.”

“We _are_ proud of you, Kaidan.” His mother wore her best attempt at a smile given the circumstances.

Kaidan’s father said nothing.

Kaidan closed the channel.


	4. The Sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immobile, left with time to think.

Kaidan felt a sting at the back of his neck, straight through the armor. He reached back and pulled away a wriggling insect as big as his palm. Just one from the swarm of millions descending on Horizon. Already, the colonists were scattering. They had no weapons, and Kaidan had no backup.

He lunged forward, toward the huge ship landing outside the colony…

And he froze.

It was as if the muscles in his legs flooded with lead. The muscles he had tensed, tensed completely, the rest seemed to be locked slack. Even moving his eyes back and forth took everything he had. He’d been in a biotic stasis before, but this was different: none of the sleepy, limp limbed heaviness, no dulled sensation.

He could feel his eyes drying out. He could feel the itch and throb of the Seeker’s sting. He could hear the screams.

It was the Collectors, they had come for Horizon. His colony. The one he was sent to protect.

And he was helpless.

His heart pounded against his ribs, the only muscle that didn’t seem to be frozen, racing with an old, familiar fear. It was just the way his stomach had leapt into his throat the first time he saw the geth impale a man—writhing and screaming—onto the Dragon’s Teeth. He had nightmares where the synthetics came for him in his parents vineyard, merciless machines holding him down until the spike punched through his pounding heart and left him up in the air to transform into a raving Husk.

When they came, he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t run, he couldn’t fight. Far away from his family on a joke of a mission for the Alliance. It was worse than his nightmares.

 _“Dawson? Dawson!”_ came a voice over the comms. _“I can’t remember the code to the bunker! Dawson, are you out there? Does… does anybody know the code to the bunker? There’s a bunch of us out here and… oh god, they’re here! Somebody help! Help!”_

That made Kaidan go cold. He only let the shame of his own survival instinct wash over him for an instant. This really was like Eden Prime, innocent civilians were going to be killed. They never saw it coming, and Kaidan couldn’t help them. Only this time, there’d be no Husks, no bodies left, no evidence at all. They’d be ‘collected,’ like so many life-sized figurines.

If he could only activate his biotics, something… lower his mass enough to… to what? Dammit.

_“Where’s that Alliance guy? Why aren’t the guns firing!”_

_“I haven’t seen him, did he get the turrets hooked up?”_

_“He never finished!”_

_“Goddamn useless Alliance son-of-a-bitch! What needs to be done?”_

_“They don’t have power, we need to reroute—but we don’t have time for that! Get inside! Right now! Lock all the doors, the windows.”_

_“Follow your own advice, Caitlyn!”_

_“I’m at home already. I’m locked in. I’m safe for now. …Sanchez? Sanchez? C-can anybody hear me?”_

_There was a thud over the comms._

_“Oh my god, Sanchez? Is that you? Someone’s banging on my door. Oh my god! It’s them! It’ them!”_

The channel dissolved into screams.

Kaidan was back in the waters of the generator plant of Virmire, slumped against a nuke. Biotics worn out, rifle overheated. He had heard the comm chatter then, too. He’d been with Shepard the whole mission, listening as Captain Kirrahe’s men put themselves between his team and the geth. When he stayed behind to supervise setting up the bomb, then to defend it when Saren showed up. Listening to Shepard over the comms. The last argument he ever lost with Ashley.

The resolve in Shepard’s voice when he told Kaidan, “I’m coming to get you.” The quaver when he apologized to Ash. She had turned her comms off then. He tried a private channel, but it was dead. Or she was dead. But nobody would hear her die over an open comm channel. Not Ash.

He had barely had the strength to reach for Shepard’s hand.

But he had. And he had to move again now.

The colony had gone silent. Even the insistent buzz had almost entirely dissipated. The Collectors were start in the major population centers—the better to collect the most people quickly—then they’d work outward. Being outside at one of the perimeter defense turrets, Kaidan would be one of the last humans found. He would hear every one of them be kidnapped and taken away.

 _“Delan, I’m right outside the garage. Open the door…”_ came a whisper over the comms. _“Dammit, Delen! I know you can hear me. I saw you go in there… please… It’s Buddy. It’s your pal, Delan. Please. Please,”_ Buddy sobbed. There was a shriek, then a gurgling sound, and the channel became the sound of hundreds of Seekers crawling all over.

Shepard had come for him on Virmire.

And Kaidan had kept his comm channel open, if he was going to die, he was going to tell Shepard…

Alchera.

Helpless.

He’d watched the Normandy split apart, aflame, Shepard was out in space among the debris. Minutes before Kaidan had been running through the burning ship, his friends and crewmates screaming, lying dead in the passageways. He didn’t even stop to check their vitals: a scream, a console explosion, then silence. He had to get to Shepard.

Shepard.

Shepard.

Then he listened over an open comms while Shepard struggled with his ventilator, the gasps turning to a wheeze, then to a rattle, then a choke. Then silence.

Two years of new nightmares. Two years of waking up alone in the night with regrets.

He remembered how investigating claims that Shepard wasn’t actually dead had been a secondary objective. It had been ridiculous. Kaidan had heard him die. Kaidan had killed himself with grief and self-loathing for years because he was dead. But the reports sounded so credible.

 _“EDI, I need those defense turrets on my HUD.”_ Kaidan would have thought the voice was a hallucination if it weren’t for the strange name it was calling out to.

It was Shepard.

 _“They’re here,”_ Shepard said over the comms. _“We’re too late!”_

 _“They’re not finished yet, Shepard,”_ came a woman’s voice.

 _“Why didn’t the Illusive Man have better intel?”_ Shepard growled. A mechanical voice replied.

_“I am not privy to the Illusive Man’s personal network of contacts. However, I can assure you that Cerberu intel, while impressive, is not perfect.”_

Cerberus.

The best of the rumors was true, and so was the worst.

Kaidan had picked through the human remains of soldiers and civilians alike, dead in heaps in Cerberus facilities. Admiral Kohaku. Kaidan had listened to Shepard telling stories about Akuze, heard the accusation Coporal Toombs had leveled against Cerberus.

Cerberus could very well have been helping the Collectors abduct colonies. Experimenting on distant colony worlds was their specialty.

And Shepard had been working with them for two years. He had let Kaidan grieve for _two years_ while he worked for Cerberus.

Still, if only he could tell them how to activate the turrets…

His biotics flashed, triggered by one of the oldest mnemonic triggers he had ever learned: deep in his diaphragm. That was all he could muster. His only hope now was to flash his biotics, exhaust himself and try to flush the toxin through his metabolism.

Over the next hour, he shivered every time he heard the roar of a Scion over Shepard’s comm channel, Shepard shouting orders to his team as wave after wave of Collectors descended on them. Just as Kaidan got a strangled cry from his mouth, compelled his leg to inch forward, the defense towers roared to life.

By the time he stood before Shepard in person, reached to shake his hand, he could barely keep himself upright.

But there he was: scarred but smiling. Commander Shepard.

And he had so little to say.

“Why didn’t you try to contact me,” Kaidan seethed. “Why didn’t you let me know you were alive?”

“I was out for two years,” Shepard blinked. “You’d moved on with your career and your life. Why reopen old wounds.”

Angry as he was, Kaidan still felt the need to explain himself to this man.

“I was here for Cerberus. I wanted to believe you were still alive… but I never expected anything like this.” But Shepard had no reply, and Kaidan snapped. “You turned your back on everything we stood for!”

“Kaidan, you know me. You know I would only do this for the right reason.”

Body aching, all Kaidan could hear were the screams of Lilith and the people of Horizon. Ashley’s goodbye. Shepard choking on the other side of an open comm channel.

“I want to believe you Shepard, but I don’t trust Cerberus. They could be using the threat of a Reaper to manipulate you. What if they’re behind it? What if they’re working with the Collectors?”

“You’re letting how you feel about their history get in the way of facts,” Shepard said, tone even.

But there were no facts. Only rumors. Only feelings. That was all he was left with now. After losing all those friends. Those years.

“Maybe,” he stepped back from Shepard. “Or maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you. Maybe you’re the one who’s not thinking straight. You’ve changed. But I still know where my loyalties lie, I’m an Alliance soldier. Always will be.”

He turned his back on Shepard, something about the lightness of Shepard’s tone when he asked Kaidan to join him stabbed like the Seeker’s sting, straight through his armor. Once, he had betrayed direct orders to lead the vanguard with Shepard to Illos. He’d gone against every bit of Alliance training to be with Shepard then. But he couldn’t now.

“I’ll never work for Ceberus,” he turned to face Shepard one last time. “Goodbye, Shepard. And… be careful.”

He would wake up tomorrow knowing Shepard was still alive in the universe, but he would be more alone than ever.

Even with the weight of all that loss on his shoulders, this was the cut that wounded Kaidan most.

That was the day he truly lost Shepard.


	5. Thoughtless/Careless/Listless/Fearless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years later, the war is over.

Once things settled down, Kaidan almost always spent an hour or two in bed in sweats and a tank with a data-pad, catching up on some work. Running errands for the Council these days had a leisure about it, and in some small way, forcing himself to work in the comfort of hi bed was his way of convincing himself he had integrated this new domesticity into his routine.

And there were nights like this, when Shepard appeared at the door wearing nothing but his briefs, his wedding band, and a smile. Would serve him right if Kaidan would give him a little ‘hello,’ then go back to his data-pad.

But there was no way he could, and Shepard damn well knew it.

“I think you’re probably winding down on work,” Shepard sauntered over, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his grip.

“You figure, huh,” Kaidan teased. “Well I just started twenty minutes ago, so technically I’m still getting wound up.”

“Not yet you’re not,” Shepard straddled Kaidan’s waist, sitting back on his lap with a broad grin. “That’s my job.”

“What’s all this about?” Kaidan chuckled, his face getting hot to feel Shepard gently rocking on his lap.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a little attention.” He put the wine glasses on the nightstand and lifted the hem of Kaidan’s shirt, teasing the soft hairs below his navel. He shook the wine in front of Kaidan’s face. “And this is a special bottle.”

It was from Kaidan’s family’s vineyard, the first vintage after the war.

“How did _you_ get this and _I_ didn’t?” Kaidan laughed, inspecting the bottle. Shepard had his hands on Kaidan’s chest.

“I talked to your mom,” he pitched Kaidan’s data-pad off the bed. “Asked her if I could surprise you with it.”

“We could have had it with dinner—“

Shepard pressed a finger to his lips, shaking his head with a warm smile.

“Just shut up, Kaidan.”

He pressed his lips to Kaidan, rolling his hips down into Kaidan’s on the bed.

“Mm,” Kaidan set the bottle aside, slid his hands up Shepard’s bare thighs. “Remember last time you brought me a bottle in bed?”

“I do,” Shepard guided Kaidan’s hands up his stomach, across his chest. “The hospital. Bought you a bottle of whiskey to… get your spirits up. To apologize. I don’t know.”

“About Horizon,” a shadow passed over Kaidan’s face. “We talked about Horizon.”

“We put Horizon _behind_ us,” Shepard kissed Kaidan’s knuckles.

“That was a big moment for us. The first time I really thought I had a chance with you… the first time I really felt forgiven.”

Shepard peaked up over Kaidan’s hands, staring deep into his eyes.

“Do you remember how I was flirting with you?” He ran his tongue over the tips of two of Kaidan’s fingers, then guided them back down his hard chest. “And how you joked about it? But were pretty clueless that I actually was flirting?” He reached underneath himself, running his hands up Kaidan’s legs. “It’s happening again.”

Kaidan chuckled, coming off the bed and lifting Shepard up, tipping him back onto the bed and landing on top of him.

“Just hard to forget, since it led us where we are now,” He smiled down at his husband, savoring the squeeze of Shepard’s thighs around his middle. “I think about it a lot, actually—“

“Kaidan,” Shepard took his face between his hands. “Shhh. You don’t always have to think so hard about things. You deserve to take a break. To drink some wine. Just be still. I love you. You’ve come so far since Horizon, far enough to rest.”

Kaidan let his body sink down onto Shepard’s, he nodded, buried his face in Shepard’s chest. He didn’t have the words. He didn’t need any words. To say ‘I love you too’ would’ve just seemed trite.

“I love you.”

It just slipped out without a thought.


	6. Long Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and a friend remember Horizon

“So, Major—“

“Traynor,” Kaidan rolled his eyes, “Enough! We’re friends, when I’m drinking you under the table, you can call me ‘Kaidan.’”

 “Drinking _me_ under the table?” Samantha scoffed. “Beer to liquor is hardly a fair comparison, _Kaidan._ ”

Samantha’s ship was docked at the Citadel for shore leave, and of course Shepard and Kaidan had invited her to stay with them while she was here. It had turned into three straight nights of really excellent cocktails, either before or after Traynor hit the clubs.

Tonight, Kaidan had told himself he’d keep the conversation light, but when you put Traynor and Shepard in a room, things tended to get competitive and raucous pretty quickly…

“Is he going to be alright?” She nodded at Shepard, passed out against Kaidan’s chest, clutching him like a biotic teddy bear.

“He, uh, since the surgeries he’s had trouble holding his liquor. I mean, he always did. Passing out at the bar…”

“He didn’t do anything like this last night!”

“We had… some…” Kaidan lifted his beer to his lips, trying to muffle the rest of his sentence in the swig he took. “… a _lot_ of wine at dinner.”

“You pre-gamed me!” Traynor, kicked her shoes off, downed the rest of it in a single gulp, and pitched herself sideways on the sofa before swallowing it down. After a few punches, one of the sofa pillows had conformed to her satisfaction, and she let out a contented sigh. “I _always_ love coming back to this place! I’ve never lived _anywhere_ like this, it’s glorious!”

She was so loud, Shepard actually shifted on Kaidan’s arm, murmured sleepily into the folds of Kaidan’s t-shirt. Kaidan pressed a kiss into his hair, and his husband quieted.

“Food’s better too, from what I remember,” he winked. “Then again, I was always eating in the workmen’s mess, so.”

“I always forget you visited Horizon—“ Samantha’s eyes got wide. “I _just_ put it together!” She bolted up, affected a gruff approximation of Kaidan’s voice. “’ _Steak steak steak! Sure wish someone would help me with these defense towers!_ ’”

“Oh god,” Kaidan’s head thudded back against the back of the sofa. Traynor was roaring with laughter.

“I came to visit my parents for a week, and it was this big joke that supposedly _everyone_ was joking about over at Faraday Drift!” She drew her knees up to her chest, rolling with laughter, “And it was _you!_ Oh my god, it was yoooouuuu!”

“wuz you…” Shepard, senseless, mumbled into Kaidan’s collarbone.

“Nicky the Neighbor boy wanted to borrow my hair products so he could do his hair up in your little poof!”

Kaidan took another swig of his beer and let Traynor yuck it up, occasionally giving Shepard’s drunken, sleeping chuckles a hand by stroking his hand down his husband’s back.

“It was a strange time, that’s for sure. I had completely forgotten about that, actually,” he said over the cackles.

“Oh, I can’t believe I never put it together! All that time on the Normandy with the poofy-haired Alliance Commander from Faraday Drift!”

“It’s pretty ridiculous that joke got that far. Don’t your parents live near the capital?”

Samantha finally laughed herself out once she had fixed herself another drink, handing another beer to Kaidan before plopping back on her mangled pillow. Kaidan’s arm was asleep under Shepard, and he gave Traynor a momentary look of helplessness till she leaned over and popped the top on the beer.

“I just visited my parents recently, actually,” she was much quieter now, taking her drink in leisurely sips. “People don’t talk about the Collector attack the way they did before the war.”

“I’m sure they don’t,” Kaidan felt a powerful compulsion, and leaned over to kiss Shepard’s head again. “The war puts a lot in perspective.”

“It certainly does. I actually wore my uniform groundside for the first time. I always used to change on the transport. I had joined the Alliance for the scholarship, but wearing an Alliance uniform around home would have gotten me strange looks, if not outright jeers.”

“I remember.”

“But nobody said anything, nobody looked twice.” She held the glass at her lips, Kaidan thought she looked almost pensive. He hadn’t seen her look so quiet and thoughtful since the limp back to Earth after the Crucible wave went off. “I’m sure… the memorial, for the Collector attacks, the Sanctuary museum… Commander Shepard is mentioned on both, but there are people, I’m sure of it, who still remember you, Kaidan.” She spoke in a hushed tone, as if she didn’t want the slumbering Shepard to overhear.

Kaidan nodded, finally let himself ease to a half laying position on the couch, pulling Shepard up to properly lay down on top of him. His husband murmured a contented sigh and snuggled in.

“That colony’s been through a lot… lot of memories there.”

“Long memories,” Traynor smiled, “And not _just_ for jokes. There’s not an engineer that doesn’t take a moment of silence before they work on those old defense towers.”

“How would you know, Samantha?” Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck, cast his eyes to the side. “You’ve barely been there in the past few years.”

“Word gets around,” she grinned. “And I’m in the know, or haven’t you noticed?” She kicked her feet up once again. “I guess the war helped Horizon find its place in the Alliance—in the universe, really. Proved how strong we are. Did the same for me, I guess. Brought all of us together, in a way.”

Kaidan looked down at Shepard, mouth open and practically drooling on Kaidan’s t-shirt. Shepard who never used to sleep at all, now comfortable enough being passed out drunk on his husband’s chest while their friend sat by.

“I guess I know something about that.”

“Then I guess the two of you will have to come visit, sometime,” Samantha smirked knowingly. “Replace some of those bad memories, hmm?”

“Yeah, that would be nice…”


	7. Archives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A future exhibit for the Horizon Sanctuary Memorial Museum.

“We can report on whatever we want!” Thad called to his mom in the kitchen. “Long as it’s about our family, and it’s 1400 words.”

“1400?” His mom peaked around the corner, “That’s awfully long for a sixth grader!”

“I think she wants us to make a vid,” Thad shrugged. “But I hate making vids.”

His mom came and sat down on the couch, she’d taken off her work shoes at the door and slung her blazer over a kitchen chair. Thad was rummaging through the archive files on their home console.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” she let her hair down, then immediately gathered it up again into a haphazard bun, leaving just a few dark curls to tuck behind her ear. “You need to report something about your family, right?”

“Yep,” Thad was barely paying attention, sifting through files as an alarming pace. “Everyone’s bugging me about it, they told me my reports gonna be too easy. I wanted to do something different.”

“Boy do I understand that,” she sighed. “I remember everyone used to give me heck about that too, because of who my grandparents were. Say, you could talk about how we ended up on the colony!”

“Everyone _knows_ you work at the memorial museum, mom!”

“Okay, okay. You’re looking for my grandparents’ vids, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me…” It took her only a few seconds to locate the directory she needed, “Here we go. Benefit of having a mom who’s an archivist, huh? Now everyone knows about the old news vids, but only _we’ve_ got my grandparents’ home-made vids…”

“There’s a bunch of them,” Thad frowned. “Have you watched all these?”

“No, honestly, I haven’t. If my granddad hadn’t been such a stickler about saving _everything_ I don’t think I’d even have saved ‘em. Go ahead, pick one. No, something after 2188, I don’t wanna be depressed tonight.”

Thad picked one at random and the screen flickered to life.

> _“Alright, here. We. Go!” Kaidan said behind the camera. “We are t-minus two days till the baby comes home, and this room is_ set _! John, how about a speech to remember the occasion?”_
> 
> _The camera swung over to a wryly smiling Commander John Shepard, appraising the colorful room with arms crossed._
> 
> _“I charge by the hour for my speeches, Kaidan.”_
> 
> _“Shepard, I’m disappointed in you!” Kaidan chuckled, “Someday our son is going to watch these vids with his family, the story of how he became part of our little Shepard-Alenko clan, and you’re too stingy to even give him one of your famous Commander Shepard speeches?”_
> 
> _“I’m going to spend the next eighteen years changing his diaper, if he doesn’t know I love him from that—“_
> 
> _“You_ do _know the diaper thing is only, like, the first two, three years max?”_
> 
> _“—don’t need to rouse him into battle or anything. I’ll stick with reading him bedtime stories!”_
> 
> _“Alright, I can live with that,” Kaidan turned the omni-camera around, embraced his husband around the shoulder so they were both in the shot. Shepard seemed to beam despite his intentions. “Hi, it’s your dads. We love you. We haven’t even met you and we love you. We can’t wait to meet you.” He blew a kiss to the camera and bade Shepard do the same, but Shepard kissed Kaidan instead._
> 
> _“Long as our other vids don’t get mixed in,” Shepard smirked wickedly, “We should be fine…”_

“Good god, grandpa,” Thad’s mom slapped her forehead, even though through the commotion on the screen—sounded like Kaidan might be chasing his husband through the house—they heard the admission that there were no videos _like that_.

Thad was frowning when the screen faded back to the menu.

“I can’t do anything with _that!_ ”

“There’s more vids, Thad,” she laughed.

“They’re just… joking and kissing all the time. All the news vids and holos they’re just real serious.”

“They look really young,” she said, wistful. “And yeah, famous people are just people, too, kiddo.”

The boy was cross, scrolled through the vids until he found one with a promising title.

Shepard was filming this time, and Kaidan was standing at a distance in one of the old Alliance dress uniforms.

“Hey, that’s the museum, right?” Thad pointed.

“Oh my god,” his mom leaned forward. “This… this is the opening of the Sanctuary memorial! All these years, I can’t believe I never saw this!”

> _“There’s Kaidan,” Shepard said in a hushed tone so only the camera could hear. “Schmoozing with the dignitaries. He’s a natural. If I was thinking about it, I really should’ve recorded his speech, Liara. It was great, one for the history books.”_

“No kidding you should’ve recorded it, you dummy,” Thad’s mom murmured.

“Is he talking to Aunt Liara?” Thad loved his aunt, and was practically leaping at the screen at just the mention of her.

“Shh!”

> _“I never thought I’d see this place again,” Shepard continued. The camera swung around, the marble of the memorial wing of the museum was still polished and gleaming, and the grass on the construction site hadn’t grown back in yet. “I’ve never set foot on this planet where I didn’t leave sick to my stomach, heartbroken, or both. I never would’ve come if it hadn’t been for Kaidan._
> 
> _“And that’s funny in and of itself, isn’t it? First time I ever came here, I left thinking I lost one of the best things that had ever happened to me. Questioned everything I believed in. Everything I stood for.”_
> 
> _Shepard gave Liara a slow scroll of the different names on the memorial wall, then moved on to some of the sculpture erected in the garden walk._
> 
> _“I thought I put myself back together again after that. But it wasn’t until Kaidan was back in my life that I really got put back together. And then, in no time, we were back here. Horizon. Sanctuary. And he was there for me, this time.”_
> 
> _He turned the camera back on the crowd of dignitaries, and Kaidan looked up and seemed to notice Shepard filming. He patted the ambassador he was talking with on the shoulder and walked toward the camera._
> 
> _“I wouldn’t have come back here if it hadn’t been for him. I don’t think I would’ve had the strength to get through this war without him.” Shepard said softly, still too far to be overheard by his grinning husband. “He was the right person to give the commemorative speech here today, Liara. People have got a lot to learn from him.”_

The screen faded back to the menu.

“Aww,” Thad pouted. “I wanted to see Aunt Liara! Where are the vids of her?”

“Y’know,” his mom stared at the screen with glassy eyes, “I don’t actually think there _are_ vids of Aunt Liara, now that I think about it…”

“What did your grandpa mean when he said he wouldn’t have gotten through the war without grandad?”

“You… umm,” she rubbed the back of her neck. “You know I hate saying ‘you’ll understand when you’re older,’ but… sometimes that’s how it is with love, you know?”

“But he was a Spectre! They were both Spectres!”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean a lot when things are really on the line.”

“...so did we move to Horizon because we’re Shepards?”

“No,” she smirked, wiping her eyes. “Well, no. We moved because I was offered to curate the museum and… let’s just saying being a Shepard helped with that. But.” She ruffled Thad’s hair, the boy seemed displeased, and immediately began smoothing it back into some semblance of his style. “That’s a helluva find you’ve got there, kid. Not a lot of documentation on Shepard and Alenko’s personal thoughts about the war. I know some scholars who would be pretty jealous of the cache you just found!”

“Hmm,” the boy turned the screen off, used the dark mirror to check his hair. “If I write another romance thingy, Allison will make fun of me.”

“Nah,” she leaned back in the sofa, looked at the list of vids on her arm. “This kind of stuff. This stuff is important. _This_ is why our family is important.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, hey, thank for reading that. It's pretty cool you read the whole thing, that means a lot to me!


End file.
